Strangers Sight
by StrawberryKiller
Summary: A girl flees, on her back a small boy. On her whole body are scars and incisions. They come from the Capitol. On the run they get in the Rebbellion...  begins in the middle of the first part and stretches about the different books
1. Chapter 1:Escape

The girl freezes. She carries only one long, white nightdress that full blood and mud hangs crusted around her slender body. There's a crack.

Refractive branches.

Like the noise of refractive bones it pursues the sound of her hurried breath.

In the darkness it is difficult for her to find the way. She is not used to it, this black Nothing by which she must maneuver herself, by which she carries her small brother.

He does not stir, clutches only onto her, gives her a feeling of the confidence and the courage. She must take him away,he has to be save, even if she does not know where this security is. Before she has never put even a foot before the glass door of the high, metallically gleaming house. She runs, she runs as fast she can, about moss, forest ground, sinks in a puddle, falls about a tree root, runs further.

The small boy clings more firmly around her neck.

She runs, she runs as fast she can.

And the fact that she is very quick , she knows. Everyday tests.

On the run tape. The investigations. The blood of her -tapped in tubes - the syringes.

Everything began, after they had cut open them the first time.

To theirs con is a fence. To her right wood.

A light cone touches them.

Her brother quietly gasps.

His clutch becomes floppier. He is so small and breakable. So unloadable.

Hold out, this is why it goes.

She stops, breathlessly. How many hours has she already run?

She does not know.

The fence gives quiet sums of itself.

Their pursuers get closer.

She is not able over here.

Quite slowly glides the boy of her back, in the foliage.

She expels a quiet noise and turns to him, raises him.

„Len, remain awake. "Her voice sounds quiet and rough. "You must help me, remain awake."

He weakly breathes, does not move.

„No." Tears gather in her dark eyes. "No, no, Len. LEN!"

Her pale, from scars to littered hands cling around his shoulders, shake him.

Breath passes. Then, finally, he moves.

He opens the eyes. They are not dark, like hers, but beaming blue.

Even now they glitter like a cloudless sky.

„The fence. " she whispers. "Help me. Please."

Quite slowly the boy stands up. His hair gleams in the weak light almost absolutely colorless.

The pursuers get always closer.

„Len."

The small one keeps a finger before the mouth.

Then somebody steps behind them from the bushes.


	2. Chapter 2:Found

"Pierja?"

A close voice. One with which her blood pulsates faster instead of letting freeze it, as voices ordinarily do.

"Pierja, are you this?"

She exhales quite slowly. She not even knows that she had stopped the breath.

She knows this voice and she likes it. Even if she has heard it just one that was lng ago.

How long? Months? No... Years. 2 years. But it is as if they had only met yesterday.

Len directs the blue eyes upon the same point. On the shade which slowly gets closer.

She cannot speak. She trembles only and crouches there, clutches in her small brother.

"Yes. " she whispers. "It's me."

Pierja. This is her name. At least that whom the people in the Capitol have given her. She does not know her right name. Just as little how she knows her parents.

Had they delivered them voluntarily, in this ugly, white-chromium-plated research building? Or had they been forced? Did she look similar to her mother or did she have rather the face of her father? How were her parents called generally?

How often she has put these questions. But nobody has answered. Not even when she raved, shouted. They gave her only one sedative.

The boy is as old as Pierja, 17, at most 19, he is bigger than her, only one small piece, because Pierja knows that she is quite big for a girl.

He is called Kyril. And she has saved his life.

At that time. Two years ago.

Now he comes up to them, with careful steps. As if he was afraid, she could hurt him.

Kyril has deep-grey eyes. These are nice eyes. Like fog gleams grey.

Fluent fog... Pierja still clutches at Len, because she knows if she lets go him, she loses her balance. How long they have run...

It is exhausted, a fact which you make clear in what danger they are immernoch.

"What do you do here? "asks Kyril.

Pierja is not able differently. She must laugh.

"You ask me?" People in the districts may not leave this. She does not know where he comes from, but he belongs in a district, and he is quite evident in the middle of the night on the wrong side of the fence.

Len pinches her in the arm. She knows that he wants to drive them, they have to leave, away.

It is too dangerous.

Kyril gets closer. Pierja is dizzy.

The contours of his fine-cut face become blurred before her eyes.

Len clutches in her leg.

His look allows to swallow them.

"We are hunted. " she says, quietly. "Len and I. have fled. we have to leave."

Kyrils look sparkles in theirs. He grins.

"This I have thought to me. If such a contingent has seldom seen."

"Do you help us?" she asks.

He nods. Confidently.

It is made easier. The tiredness begins to rise to her to head.

"There behind the fence is defective. "if he explains. "We climb by. I have nearby a hiding place."

"Thank you. "if she whispers.

One of the light cones gets closer.

Voices. They are everywhere.

Kyril raises Len. With the other hand Kyril reaches for Pierja, takes her hand, pulls her forward.

Pierja can hardly keep on the legs.

"Thank you. "she repeats. "Thank you."

Kyril grins.

It gives him pleasure, the constant escape, the danger, the fight.

"Thank me not too early, princess."

Lens eyes are gigantic and anxiously in the dim light.

Perjas legs refuse almost the service to her, as Kyril starts to run and she moves with herself, she makes adapt herself to his tempo.

In front of them is the fence. She can see the hole in it, just largely enough for a person of middle size.

A light cone touches her skin.

Somebody releases a weapon and shoots. The bang is according to in the silence.

Beside Pierjas head a floor hits in the fence.

Len closes the mouth tight the lips firmly. He trembles. Clutches at Kyril.

Then everywhere .Her pursuers are there , they circle them.

Pierja expels a desperate gasp.


	3. Chapter 3:Fight

Kyril almost drops Len. The grin has disappeared from his face.

Pierja makes her legs obey her, tries to stop with the shivering, wants to give to her breath a steady Rhytmus.

She does not succeed.

They have us Found is too late, we will die... Too late, too late... LEN will die... And Kyril. he is innocent ... he has found us scarcely... he has nothing do do with it... They may not die.

One of her pursuers steps from the shade in the light which is directed from all sides upon them. It is a man, maybe thirty, in a dark suit which looks as if he was from leather. He carries a helmet under the arm. In the visor Pierja is able to see herself:her pale skin which shines almost silvery in the light, the almost colorless, blond hair, the big, dark eyes, the mud-crusted nightdress...

"No. 7, Pierja Goodfellow. No. 13, Len Steelfeather."

Properly, Pierja thinks, for him we are only numbers. Nothing which Is really alive and human.

In a suddenly flight of fury Pierja is shouting at him.

"LEAVE US ALONE!"

The man reacts calm.

"If you arise, nothing will pass you."

This is a lie, each of the persons present knows this. Even the poor Kyril which deals with the thing just as one of the moths which circle round the lamps.

Kyril clasps her hand more firmly. The pressure of his fingers gives Pierja a little courage. She becomes warm.

If she can maltreat even more time, maybe he finds a possibility with Len to flee...

"You will not punish us? "asks Pierja quietly.

"Nr.7." he throws her one disapproving look. "What sense would this have? To injure you is almost impossible, and with No. 13 we would never venture this. You are too precious. Simply come along. Everything is well."

Nothing would ever get well. Nothing at all.

Pierja swallows and let go Kyrils hand.

"You will not harm our friend, will you?"

She bends the head in Kyrils direction. The grey from Kyrils eyes whirls. He is confused. Indecisively he stands there, worriedly, with Len on the arm which he clasps now completely and guards.

Now the man half smiles.

"Of course not. He can go any time."

Lie, lie, LIES!

Everything in Pierja cramps together when she gets closer to the man.

She stretches carefully the arm to him, however, he does not step back. Why did he have to?

Pierja is only one tired, mud-splashed, confused girl.

He should step back.

Pierja bites the lip.

"Well, I come with you. Len also. We are tired. We arise."

Again a lie.

This spot one, from which them hoftt that it helps to save the life to them.

The man clasps the helmet more firmly and nods to her. As if she had done the right one.

He is unadvised.

Suddenly everything goes terrifically fast.

With a quick movement Pierja packs his head and turns around him once.

It cracks. Then he is dead. Sinks to ground. She takes to herself his weapon, somebody tries to shoot them, the shot meets her belly

. Not the belly! Not my unprotected, AH!

Again a shot, this spot bounces off he in her scapula, she feels the ball which is in her skin.

Kyril buckles on the ground guarding Len , reaches to his leg.

Their pursuers, people with the same dark clothes and helmets on the head in whose visors everything is reflected are everywhere.

One gets them to touch, Kyril throws something at him, it meets him, glides by his suit, in his this breast-is a knife? Where from to the hell he has.?

She has no time to think about it.

Somebody knocks her down . Her head hurts.

A red veil moves about the world, Pierja forces herself to stay awake.

They have Kyril, two men hold him..

Len stands there, he stares anxiously. Then the fear becomes determination.

Pierja swallows, forces herself, to stay awake, surrenders the counterweir, presses the hands on her head.

"KYRIL!"

He looks up rushed at her.

"SHUT YOUR EARS!"

This is the last what she says.

Len opens mouth. She hears no tone.

One of the men behind her lets go them.

Then everything is getting dark.


	4. Chapter 4:Awake

"NO. 2!" A shrill women's voice. Pierja sits before the television. President Snow makes a speech. The hunger plays. Neither once. Pierja hates it. But she has nothing to do, and it is one of the rare times that they and Len alone together are. He clings, as usual, silently to them. Everything is quiet.

Then, all of a sudden she hears a shout.

A person in a white smock runs by the hall.

One of us?

Yes, definitively none of the scientists. Tumult. The guards run by the hall.

And then, all of a sudden, she sees him.

He is the nicest boy whom she has ever seen. With the slightly sloping-standing eyes which gleam grey he has something feline. His face is well cut, it has high cheek bones. Almost absolutely symmetrically.

It is covered with blood.

Pierja jumps up and almost drops Len.

The boy stares at them.

He has a weapon over the shoulder and bleeds. His pretty face is terribly pale.

When she gets closer, he opens mouth.

"Shh." She clasps him, supports him, closes de door, she barricades with the sofa.

"I'll not harm you. No worry."

He has a backpack. She strips him and puts him beside the sofa, then it sinks the boy carefully on it. His arm bleeds. Presumably he was shoot.

She tears off a piece of her dress and ties the material stripe round the wound.

"My name is Pierja. " she says quietly.

Why is she so trustworthy? Otherwise she hates people, above all foreign ones.

When she hears his voice, she knows it.

"Kyril. My name is... Kyril Hawthorne. Thank you Pierja."

"You belong to the rebels, right?"

He winces about question and is quiet. She weakly smiles.

"I do not betray you. Promised. In half an hour the guards change. We get out you here."

If she can contribute so to the fact that the Capitol gets problems...

She hates it. This life. This town. The people. The president. This dictatorship...

Len cuddles up to her side.

Kyril scrutinises him, asks him about his name.

Pierjas smile becomes broader.

"Len doesn't speak. With nobody. Only sometimes with me if it is really urgent." She stands up, smooths to herself the dress and listen in in the door. Everything is quiet, only isolated shouts sound. "If I recognise this properly, they are outdoors, on the inner courtyard, we can create you from the emergency exit."

Kyrils irritating grey eyes are directed again on them.

"Why do you help me?"

She hesitates a moment, then it lifts the hand and touches his cheek.

"I... trust you, I think."

"Pierja!"

Somebody shakes her.

"PIERJA! WAKE UP!"

She snaps at air, winks carefully.

A moment everything is black, then the veil is back and she sees Kyrils face blurred about herself.

"I have dreamt of you. You are pretty, do you know this? "She giggles and gets a fright at it.

Kyrils mouth contorts.

"This comes from the painkiller. Soon it is over."

She winks and closes the eyes again. Everything is so light. And warm. And brightly

Sharp pain allows to boot up them.

Kyril has punched her.

Suddenly Pierja knows again what has happened. Under the painkiller cloud a part of her gets clean.

"LEN!"

Kyril winks made easier. "He's here. He sleeps."

What is "here"?

She looks round confused.

Age, weather-beaten concrete. The water which drips from the cover.

Pierja winks confused.

"We are in my hiding place."

He pats her shoulder.

No half a metre away from her there lies Len, muffled in an old cover, and sleeps.

"What has happened there outdoors?"

"Hmh.:" Pierja sinks forwards, against Kyril.

He lays carefully the arm around them. She giggles a moment, becomes serious then again.

"Nevertheless, the more important question is: What will still happen?"


End file.
